The Voice

I wake up to the familiar but never pleasant sound of my cellphone vibrating on my desk.

It's 7:30am.

I tap on the snooze button and fall into deep sleep again... and again until the screen shows it's 8:40am. Now I really need to get up.

I roll out of my warmed cotton sheets and force my eyes to open, just enough to get a blurry glimpse of the path to the washroom. Jeannie has left for work already. I'm reminded of how lucky I am to have a roommate whom I barely run into. She's gone by the time I get up; she's already deep asleep when I come home at night, as I spend most of my evenings at the climbing gym or my boyfriend's house. Not that I don't want to run into her or anything.

I head out, lock the door, throw the rotten-shrimp-smelling garbage down the chute, and press the button with the arrow pointing down until and wait. Soon, the elevator doors slide open with a ding. I see a man with an old Golden Retriever is standing in the corner. I take a quick glance at him and realize I've seen him several times near the condo entrance, walking his dog. I remember because the dog smelled awful, like he hasn't been given a bath for years. Then sudeenly, I hear a man's voice in my head, "I hope she doesn't notice my dog stinks."

"Sorry?"

I ask as I turn around to see the man, thinking, why is he saying this out loud? Did I unconsciously frown at the smell?

"What? Sorry?"

The man responds with confusion in his eyes.

Then I hear the voice again.

"What is she talking about? Is she talking to me? Is she talking someone on the phone?"

I am startled.

I am looking staight at the man's face and his lips have not moved a bit.

Who is talking to me? Where is this voice coming from?

There is only me and this man in this elevator.